Nights Under The Full Jazz Moon
by Laeta
Summary: [HoratioCalleigh] She could see that control, which kept him just outside her personal space, giving her his permission to seduce to her heart’s desire. Just before she did just that, she promised his heart a sincere conversation with hers.
1. First Motions

Disclaimer: _CSI: Miami_ does not belong to me. The characters are full of inspiration, intelligence, and intrigue that I can't help but borrow them a short while. I heartily enjoy the show and its premise. The events of this story are mine, but the characters are definitely not.

Author's Note: For b8kworm, the H/C group. Eternal gratitude to Mr. Hathaway, who made me realize I had a talent I was wasting; my apologies for neglecting to put a note here on all the other stories. To Lauri, because you've made me more vocal about the smut I'm addicted to but can't write; this is as close as I get. Thanks, Marianne, for your enthusiasm and help for my *trudgings*, LoL!

Summary: She could see that control, which kept him just outside her personal space, giving her his permission to seduce to her heart's desire. Just before she did just that, she promised his heart a sincere conversation with hers.

Archives: My site. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh

Spoiler: None, sorry.

***** ***** ***** 

Title: Nights Under the Full Jazz Moon

Author: Laeta  
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

  


Chapter 1: First Motions

She was still considered a tourist in the way the city's life at night sometimes caught her speechless. Miami was a world away from the lazy, superficial evenings of the Louisiana from her memories. So she cherished those memories of a simpler life when city life occasionally overwhelmed the country-girl-at-heart she truly was. Moments like now where she had no idea what to do.

Like a rule, she was the lone wheel among scores of female friends who vouched for a girls' night out away from their male significant others. Husbands, fiancés, boyfriends, and male best friends were undeniably absent as her friends spilled onto the club's dance floor and cracked jokes around their commandeered table - with the best view in the house: the bar.

On nights like these, they owned the club and every single man was their prey. None escaped them, they were that good. The bar was where the bait lie and the ladies could see their prospective night's meal unaware as they decided who was worth their time. The trap? The trap was hours of sexual hunger unleashed and sensual teasing that ended the instant the clock struck the time. Then the ladies reigned in, fidelity was kept, and the sun rose over the eastern horizon.

This evening, she sat at the table's head, her back to the bar; resignation had Calleigh lonely and aching. The night would be more fun if she had a man - a man who would show amazing love, intensity, and trust in her indulgence on this one night. Reality was that she wanted one man, and he was next to impossible to have.

She worked with him, learned from him, and yearned for him in equal measures every day. None of their open flirting would ever amount to much because of their professionalism and the haunted remnant of shadows from the past - both his and hers. Yet, she never made a secret of her appreciation for his physical body that was both devastatingly solid and a phantom apparition, as well as the mind it encased. She could only imagine the thrill of becoming the latter's sole focus. As it was, the wanting was so much other men shrank in comparison, and it was the reason she sat with her back to the bar.

Nevertheless, she listened with avid attention to every raunchy description of the male meat within the club. She may want one man in particular, but she was still one hundred percent woman. Besides, it was interesting to hear the men's reactions to her and her friends' outfits. After all, the name of the game they played was tease seduction.

Like all the ladies, Calleigh wore boots and the skirt to match. Shirts varied according to taste and mood; she fitted the risqué tank top nicely, which hid beneath the demure thigh-length, lightweight ladies leather jacket she did not bother to put in the coat check. Maybe later though; it was early enough that the club's air conditioning had some effect. Hair swept up to hide its length and thickness, her neck was bare as were her fingers.

  


Twilight finished its idle stroll and night's arrival called all the ladies to the dance floor. Leaving her jacket to mark the table taken, Calleigh joined her friends while a pair of eyes with the intensity of the moon followed her every move.

Like all the nights past, she soon returned to the table and joined some of her pickier friends as they looked for the night's perfect partner. Like all the other nights, they tried to find Calleigh's while she looked on with exasperated amusement. She knew they would never see him; he had no reason to come to a club like this one.

So candidate after candidate was rejected. He was not tall enough. He did not have the right hair color. The style of his clothes was wrong. The drink he ordered was wrong. The set of his shoulder, his posture, was not sufficient to boil Calleigh's blood. Until her friends suddenly fell silent and Calleigh laughed aloud at the collective look of stunned amazement on their faces. When it dragged on longer than usual at the appearance of an especially gorgeous male specimen, Calleigh was tempted to turn around.

However, the last time Calleigh had spent the night ignoring men, it was a disaster. At her friends' urging, she turned to glimpse at the man and a jealous riot broke out. She was mortified that a simple action could cause such emotions over someone like her. Once recovered, she realized that the men were trying to get her attention; because she was not openly watching them, they assumed she had the highest standards. To be chosen by her, then, was every man's dream, the ultimate male ego boost. So when she deigned to glance at the man, it seemed the testosterone ego contest raging behind her lost civility. Every man wanted the "winner" to be himself; when it was not - well, she learned not to make that mistake lightly again.

Becoming more and more tempted she fired question after question. Very, nicely tall. Red hair. Suave, subtle style. Cradled a cocktail glass that showed off the unmistakable color of a Comfort Dry Manhattan. Broad shoulders, trim waist. Amazing carry and grace, almost feline in his movement.

Calleigh could feel her heart start to race as the implication sank in. Disbelief halted the want to satiate her curiosity and look at the man. She could see the fine appreciation in her friends' faces as they appraised him. It was by the looks on their faces that she knew the instant he turned away from the bartender and glanced in their direction. They only wore that expression for the most devastatingly handsome.

Yet she could not bring herself to accept he was there - in the club - with her. That, and the fact none of her friends were pawing to claim the man. The answer to her second stray revelation came when they looked, in unison, at Calleigh and gave her their hands-off sign. They would not touch him; whether or not she wanted him, he was all hers and the thought warmed her motionless body.

Slowly, Calleigh managed to turn around and looked straight into Horatio's eyes.

  


The first thing she responded to was the heat; it was September afternoon in Louisiana. It languished in his eyes and she rose out of her chair, helpless against anything but approaching the beckoning fire.

The next thing was the way those eyes raked her from head to toe and dragged themselves up again. She saw the male approval at the outfit she wore and did not bother to suppress the thrill that rode through her. Blatant appraisal had never been a turn on before, but tonight, she almost cried out from arousal. The way he responded to the combination of clothing articles told her he liked gentle romance but did not resist the urge of blood hot, rough sexuality. He could accept a woman's raw sensuality because he was secure in his masculinity.

A subset of that masculinity was the control vibrating through him. She could see that control, which kept him just outside her personal space, giving her his permission to seduce to her heart's desire. Just before she did just that, she promised his heart a sincere conversation with hers.

  


Even as the club's dance floor crowded, Calleigh was oblivious to the sweat and press of the other dancers. Her awareness had long since narrowed down to the man whose body curved around and into hers as the beat and the darkened atmosphere intoxicated them. She savored the scent of his body as it worked hers into a matched frenzy. She memorized the planes of taut muscle through the single layer that separated the inherit softness of the female body from the achieved hardness of the male physique. The heady texture of his hair running through her fingers brought his body even closer to hers and she reveled in that power. Through it all, the heated fire of his eyes made her forget her inhibitions and she finally experienced the full bloom of her own sensuality.

  


Chapter 2: Question Unanswered

***** ***** *****  
© RK 12.May.2003


	2. Question Unanswered

Disclaimer: _CSI: Miami_ does not belong to me. The characters are full of inspiration, intelligence, and intrigue that I can't help but borrow them a short while. I heartily enjoy the show and its premise. The events of this story are mine, but the characters are definitely not.

Author's Note: For b8kworm, the H/C group. Eternal gratitude to Mr. Hathaway, who made me realize I had a talent I was wasting; my apologies for neglecting to put a note here on all the other stories. To Lauri, because you've made me more vocal about the smut I'm addicted to but can't write; this is as close as I get. Thanks, Marianne, for your enthusiasm and help for my *trudgings*, LoL!

Summary: She could see that control, which kept him just outside her personal space, giving her his permission to seduce to her heart's desire. Just before she did just that, she promised his heart a sincere conversation with hers.

Archives: My site. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh

Spoiler: None, sorry.

***** ***** ***** 

Title: Nights Under the Full Jazz Moon

Author: Laeta  
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

  


Chapter 2: Question Unanswered

Sunlight filtered through airy lace curtains and Calleigh paused in anticipation for the next breeze. When it came to caress her skin, she stretched slightly and felt the pull of tender muscles. For the first time since the advent of the girls' night out club, she felt the pleasant buzz of an evening well spent.

She still had no clue as to why Horatio would have been at the club last night. They had not bothered with talking. Really, there was no use for words since their bodies carried on an erotic conversation for them. Of course, the music had been loud and the bass had skillfully throbbed the air of the club.

She could recall with vivid clarity how his body was both protective and provocative. There were clear lines of possession drawn through it the whole night and allowed her to truly enjoy herself instead of trying to fend off unwanted dance partners. As it was, she had spent the whole night in his arms and had just let go of everything else. Sometimes following his lead or him following hers, together they forgot about the world; she never before felt that reckless ability.

Another breeze floated through the windows and brought a shiver as its companion. The memory of his breath as he teased her nearly bare shoulder drew a sigh from Calleigh. Maybe she should stop thinking about the night and shower away his smell off her skin. The attempt to move stilled as the next breeze brought even more memories to light. Settling back into bed, resigned, Calleigh decided to make the most of it since it did not seem like she had an opposing choice.

It had taken him some time to accustom himself with her permission to touch her body. She had felt his hesitation through his fleeting touches; they both knew the line existed between derogatory groping and heated dancing. Then when he had figured out she was a willing accomplice for anything, he had turned on the intensity she adored. Fingers dipped into that heated fire showcased by his eyes and left trails of blush where he could see skin and arousal where he could not. Then his mouth had followed - along her raised arms, hair-relieved neck, shoulders - leaving barely felt kisses as though he was afraid to taste and discover she was only a dream.

Surprisingly, once that revelation sunk into her alcohol and seduction drenched mind, she had found the desire to help him forget. Looking back now, she was almost embarrassed with the turn in her behavior. A self-conscious smile on her face accompanied the memory of the feral movements Horatio's body had taken in response. For that, Calleigh knew she would give nearly anything to experience again.

Now in the light of day, she wondered how they were going to handle the events of last night at work. She knew they would have to talk eventually and unearth whatever prompted Horatio to tempt her that way. She only hoped she was strong enough to withstand disappointment.

  


Two days later, Calleigh meandered her way through the lab. Although all the lab employees spent an exorbitant amount of time within its walls, she always found returning after the weekend felt like coming home. Hence the wandering path of her steps allowed the simultaneous re-acquaintance between herself and the building as well as the opportunity to greet and to chat with fellow employees she rarely had a reason to see while working.

And so, this was how she heard three different accounts on Horatio before her first cup of coffee. One reliable source had him sulking and scattering employees helter-skelter with a well-placed, ill-tempered glare. Another swore he walked with a tightly restrained, coiled gait, ready to spring at a moment's notice. The third giddily rushed through her recap of Horatio's open, ready smile and unique brand of attentive, gentleman-like behavior.

  


She saw the lights on in her lab and slowed her steps. Without a doubt, she knew Horatio was waiting for her; inside she was torn between the apprehension of future words and the craving of coffee that the often reliable lab rumor-bug said he had with him.

With only a deep breath for armor, she opened the door and stopped just inside the threshold. Impeccably dressed as always, Horatio was engrossed in his study of her most recent bullet comparison. Calleigh tried to gauge his mood as she waited for him to acknowledge her. Contrary to the received accounts, he appeared completely normal - as though the night in the club had never happened. Then again, she could see tension and wondered if he had slept much at all; if not, it would explain why there was no hint of that coffee cup anywhere.

She gave a tentative smile when he finally straightened. "Hey, Handsome."

"Calleigh." His voice was an octave away from the normal husky timbre, and she knew why the moment his eyes swept up her figure to meet hers - the forbidden fire was still there. After nearly three days, it still greedily consumed everything Horatio had to lose. Like that night, the fire pulled at Calleigh and begged to share its heat; now, away from the headiness of the moment, she felt her grasp on her heart loosen as she began to fall in love with him all over again.

"Horatio, you should have taken the day off." Concern was an easy emotion to hide love behind and failed as an adequate cover when his wry chuckle blew it feebly away.

"No. We need to talk."

Calleigh wanted more privacy; with the glass walls and open door, there was precious little to be had. So she stepped further into the room and closed the door; a careless shrug fell off her shoulders for everybody else, let them conjure their own stories about this conversation.

Door shut and soundproof glass placing them against the world, Calleigh's heartbeat shifted to a staccato rhythm. She drifted closer to Horatio's unmoving form and hit a mark directly across the table from him. Her view of his face was stereo sound and full color and, for the first time in her acquaintance with him, she saw him fidget. Eyes flew and landed everywhere except on her while hands wandered from the table top to his pockets and his center of mass shifted from side to side.

With a sigh and the wish to tell him everything in her heart, mind, and soul, she hoped to gain a clue from the restless man. Blue eyes finally settled upon her lost eyes and she was fascinated by the rise of the fierce protective spirit he constantly surrendered to. Leadership had always fallen easily to him; this situation was no different.

"At the beginning."

And Calleigh discovered a new facet of Horatio's personality: though he was a man always in control during professional circumstances, he preferred his personal relationships to be based on equal standing and respect. With that one phrase, Horatio may be directing the start of this conversation, but he was allowing her to decide where the beginning was. From any other man, she would know the comment was borderline chauvinistic, but with this man, it was a respectful nod to her privacy.

"Miami was always the place to be for us kids growing up in Louisiana, not Baton Rouge, Jackson, or Atlanta; not even Austin or Dallas. They were too busy for the likes of us, but Miami was fast enough to amaze us and both near and far enough from home for comfort. So first chance any of us had, we left for Miami. It was easier for some and took longer for others and some never left home. Anyway, those who made it here, we get together for our own kind of reunion since nobody will probably ever understand us like each other. In the beginning, we met once a month for dinner at some chic restaurant, this was Miami after all; then there were sporting events that the guys left us girls to our own devices. So, we created the girls' night out club. Friday night was a full moon, and you know what the full moon does to the female system. It was an excuse to act outside ourselves in the big city. And it just grew from there."

"Dance, tease, and seduction?"

It was her turn for a wry chuckle. "All that and add in no chaperones or curfew and liqueur."

"Why me?"

Calleigh did not know how to answer the weighted question. The lab was not exactly the place she wanted for this discussion, though she did realize the neutrality of the locale.

"Calleigh, why me? I was watching you for most of the night and you barely glanced at anybody. So, please, clear up some confusion for me."

This time, she broke the eye contact between them and leaned heavily against the table. He had been watching her? Shoulders sagged and she felt embarrassment but strangely, no awkwardness. Suddenly, Horatio circumvented the table and filled her entire field of vision. Gentle influence forced her to accept the truth in his statement; the damned fire was sending its own tendrils of hot seduction in her direction. The truth, he would deny all else.

"I used to dance every one of those nights, for the freedom of it. Then I danced to forget - someone; when that didn't work, I stopped. I haven't danced with anyone for about a year, Horatio. You were the first in a long time."

His hand shook as it reached out to contact her skin for the first time that day. It smoothed over her cheek and Calleigh was helpless to turn away; she wanted to tap into the comfort his body represented. Instead, she lay passive while his hand drew her to face him.

"Why me, Calleigh?"

  


Chapter 3: Sweet Invitation

***** ***** *****  
© RK 20.May.2003


	3. Sweet Invitation

Disclaimer: _CSI: Miami_ does not belong to me. The characters are full of inspiration, intelligence, and intrigue that I can't help but borrow them a short while. I heartily enjoy the show and its premise. The events of this story are mine, but the characters are definitely not.

Author's Note: For b8kworm, the H/C group. Eternal gratitude to Mr. Hathaway, who made me realize I had a talent I was wasting; my apologies for neglecting to put a note here on all the other stories. To Lauri, because you've made me more vocal about the smut I'm addicted to but can't write; this is as close as I get. Thanks, Marianne, for your enthusiasm and help for my *trudgings*, LoL!

Summary: She could see that control, which kept him just outside her personal space, giving her his permission to seduce to her heart's desire. Just before she did just that, she promised his heart a sincere conversation with hers.

Archives: My site. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh

Spoiler: None, sorry.

***** ***** ***** 

Title: Nights Under the Full Jazz Moon

Author: Laeta  
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

  


Chapter 3: Sweet Invitation

Silence continued to pass from Calleigh's lips. Always drawn to Horatio, she watched in slow-motion vision as his other hand drew toward her face to join its counterpart; the tender gesture of framing her face frayed all of Calleigh's control. She shook from the sheer onslaught of emotions - frustration, vulnerability, stress, need, and most of all, love.

"Calleigh, look at me." Shaky eyes gradually centered themselves on his. "Trust me; I won't ever hurt you, sweetheart. You know that, right?"

Her only semblance of a nod was the shift of her eyes toward his lips and back again.

"I - I can't - not here. I'm so sorry." She knew he could see her disappointment in herself and prayed he did not feel the same. She had her answer with Horatio's next move.

One hand began a slow journey to her neck, over her shoulder, and down the length of her arm to her hand, which he lifted and turned palm up, while the other reached into his jacket's breast pocket. A white, business size card was withdrawn and landed print side down into her palm; Calleigh felt electricity when both his hands held her one and her heartbeat ceased its arrhythmia and merely raced.

"Shh, it's alright. We can continue another time, no worries, okay?" She managed to complete a nod this time.

Then he leaned even closer into Calleigh's personal space and whispered his next words into her ear, creating shivers down her spine. "Good. If you're free this Friday night, meet me here." He soothed the waves of arousal by stepping back and, with both hands supporting hers, he stooped to lay a kiss on the back of her hand. Calleigh all but swooned at the romantic undertones of the out-dated kiss.

Letting go, he moved to leave the room but stalled a foot behind her. She whirled around in confusion and saw Horatio's profile as he debated internally. Then she found herself caught between red-hot heat and the unyielding table as Horatio consumed her lips. Calleigh had no defenses against Horatio's skill of persuasive teasing and soon, she was desperate for more.

She bowed into his body and gave him more than he asked for. He took without heed and fought valiantly for control. She drew her hands up his chest, held onto his neck for anchorage, and brought Horatio with her into the world of passion's fog where time stood still and they were free to act on their attraction. She heard herself moan and felt a response from Horatio when he deepened the kiss further. They were lost to the physical world and were crudely brought back once he groaned and tore his mouth away from hers.

She discovered she had somehow managed to be seated atop the table with Horatio's hands braced on either side of her slim body. He rested his head, eyes closed, on Calleigh shoulder, gasping for breath. On the other hand, equally as breathless, she leaned onto Horatio's rigid frame; she fought to reconnect with the air-conditioned world of the lab.

"Calleigh - Calleigh, I'm sorry - I didn't -"

Ever the gentleman to the core, Calleigh cut off his quick apology with a heated breath: "Finish that sentence and you're gone until you're willing to apologize for thinking about apologizing."

Connected as she was with him, she knew it took a moment before the implication sank into his mind. At the moment it did, the tension that had filled the room to brimming since she first stepped inside shattered as he laughed away his initial guilt for potentially taking advantage of her. He remained in her arms, not daring to make eye contact, while she soothed the fire raging within his body. One slender hand drew comforting circles along the back of his neck and shoulders; the other danced along his hair.

She started when he nudged into her neck and sniffed. Surprising still was the vibrations shooting through his body from that action; it was as if his body burned for another kiss. She sighed in remembrance and felt his smile. Gradually, he shifted his stance and raised his head without dislodging her arms around his body.

"All right, no apologizing; you got it, sweetheart." She rewarded with a smile and watched his breath falter though he continued on, albeit breathlessly. "How about honesty? I've wanted to kiss you like that for about three days." He edged closer. "If I were even more honest, I would say I wanted you since you came to Miami."

Thoughts emptied out of her mind; could the man say anything more right? Sensations of appreciation and being needed and wanted flooded her veins so she barely heard his next words. "What?"

She savored the good-humored laughter that drifted from him into her. And then he just took, exactly as sweet as his words were, he melted her with his next claimed kiss. She clung to him though he refused to remove his hands from the tabletop; they clenched and unclenched in desperation next to her.

Later when the haze of fever abated and she could think clearly, she would know he refused to touch her any further because of tenuous control. He had already given in to it more than he intended. However, right then and there, all she could feel was a stung reminder of glass, equipment, and work. It brought her back to reality quicker and more effectively than a cold bucket of water.

"Horatio -"

He looked as doused as she felt, but she refused to let him withdraw from her. She was beginning to adore his wry chuckle.

"What're we going to do?"

"Friday night. That a date?"

"Would you like it to be?"

"Stop trying to charm me; you do better without the effort."

Now she received a fleeting touch as he held her hips to help her down from the table. She slid down his body and grinned at Horatio's tortured face.

"Stop tempting me."

"From what, Horatio?"

"You, sweetheart."

She grinned. "Charmer."

He stole another kiss. "I'd like for it to be a date."

She felt like spinning in unadulterated glee. She watched as he considered the temptation of running his hand through her hair; he eyed its length like a hawk.

"Why don't you?" Dual meaning; of course she knew he would understand.

Eyes narrowed; his hand smoothed over her head and down her back. A smile of pure male pride drifted over his face when she practically purred from delight.

"Yes, why don't we."

Then they both heard the ticking of the clock signaling the passage of time. The air of romance flitted away; it was time to work.

"You should leave, Horatio." She knew the resignation she saw in his eyes reflected in hers.

"Yeah." Still he remained in her arms; he stalled for more sweet romance. "I bought coffee for you."

"Are you trying to soften me for something?"

He took his time answering. When he voiced his exposed response, Calleigh knew he was playing for keeps. "Actually, I'm aiming to court you."

Shock fell away from her in pieces while Horatio measured her reaction to his declaration. Relief was an invigorating sensation that left no room for adverse feelings once she cleared the air with invitation and intent.

"Well, Handsome, I look forward to it."

However loath to do so, she shooed him away after that knowing neither would be able to find any fraction of decorum while they remained near the other. He paused in the open doorway, stopping midway in his reluctant trek, and glanced obliquely toward Calleigh. "Friday night? Wear your hair up. I think I can withstand the temptation of your neck again but not your hair." With that, he was gone.

Laughter bubbled from Calleigh's lungs. So that's how they were going to play it.

  


Chapter 4: Jazz Urgings

***** ***** *****  
© RK 21.May.2003


	4. Jazz Urgings

Disclaimer: _CSI: Miami_ does not belong to me. The characters are full of inspiration, intelligence, and intrigue that I can't help but borrow them a short while. I heartily enjoy the show and its premise. The events of this story are mine, but the characters are definitely not.

Author's Note: For b8kworm, the H/C group. Eternal gratitude to Mr. Hathaway, who made me realize I had a talent I was wasting; my apologies for neglecting to put a note here on all the other stories. To Lauri, because you've made me more vocal about the smut I'm addicted to but can't write; this is as close as I get. Thanks, Marianne, for your enthusiasm and help for my *trudgings*, LoL!

Summary: She could see that control, which kept him just outside her personal space, giving her his permission to seduce to her heart's desire. Just before she did just that, she promised his heart a sincere conversation with hers.

Archives: My site. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh

Spoiler: None, sorry.

***** ***** ***** 

Title: Nights Under the Full Jazz Moon

Author: Laeta  
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

  


Chapter 4: Jazz Urgings

The secluded restaurant sprawled a blink away from the beachfront surrounded by the waning moon's light amidst scattered candlelight. Soft trumpets, lilting pianos, and pulsing cellos echoed the song of the crashing water. Daylight's heat warmed the night while cool ocean air escorted mystery and excitement.

She saw him the instant she exited the hired taxi. In the shifting light, he leaned against the railing that separated sand from civilized tiles and gazed out over the darkened landscape he called home.

She could swear he possessed telepathic powers when he turned in her direction the instant she stepped into the pool of light that illuminated the restaurant's outdoor dining area. Even from this distance, she saw the fire ignite in his eyes as he studied her appearance. Taking care to respect his wish, she had swept her hair into a high pony tail and let the rest cascade down her back. To please him, she wore a black dress, which stopped mid-thigh and flowed off one shoulder while leaving the other bare. Completing the picture were open-toed, low heeled shoes and the perfume he apparently found captivating earlier in the week.

He hooked an arm over the railing and watched Calleigh cross toward him. An arm's length away, he offered the single rose he held. Sweet smelling, she used the time to absorb the darkness shrouded man. Unusual to the norm, he lacked a jacket and sported only a charcoal button-up shirt made casual with the top few buttons left undone. The sleeves were open, too, and rolled up to further aid the appearance of a relaxed evening. Dark grey slacks were missing a gun and shield off his hip; so he was making her a priority tonight.

She smiled her appreciation; who would not like being a man's priority? If it were not for the delicious anticipation pooling through her, she knew she would probably melt merely looking at him. She waited for a cue; a beat later, Horatio pushed away from the railing and managed to restrict himself to a single somewhat chaste kiss before turning into her.

Voice low, private, he greeted her. "Beautiful, as always; perfection on wings."

"Charmer," she replied no higher than a whisper.

"Thank you for coming."

Her smile broadened although her words were in serious tones. "Wouldn't miss this for the world, Horatio. I think we've been coming toward this for a long time."

"Good, I'm glad you think so, too." His timbre echoed hers.

He fell silent, thinking, and Calleigh drowned in his words. "How far would you let me go tonight, Calleigh?"

"What do you mean?"

"First dinner. Would you let me take a walk along the beach with you?"

"What else did you have in mind?" And she did not need for him to answer; she saw everything in his eyes. Eyes he left open and defenseless to her scrutiny. Perhaps another woman may have had several options in response; she had only one - "All the way."

"Perfection on wings." Awe colored the repeated words with hues of respect and need.

He looked as though he was going to fall apart so Calleigh tried for levity. Backed by a flirty grin, she groused him. "Hey, if this is a date, are you going to feed me?"

Then she fell completely for that wry chuckle.

  


They were seated in a quiet sector of the outdoor eating area. Their waitress well trained, she approached only for their order of wine and dinner; then disappeared until Horatio signaled for her. This left uninterrupted time where she had Horatio all to herself and, of course, vice versa.

By unspoken agreement, they spoke not of work or cases nor of the particulars of their relationship. They kept to so-called safe topics - music, literature, world news. They played the game so well they appeared to be an ordinary couple, relaxing after the work week, getting to know each other. Possibly they were that, but she knew they were already beyond that stage. They were merely attempting to accustom themselves to the newfound physical level of their relationship since they had already connected on all other levels.

For her part, Calleigh received an undeniable prelude to being in Horatio's bed. Throughout the courses, he lavished her with warmth, focused on every whimsical note of her voice. Voice pitched low and intimate, warm molasses in summer sun; fragrant meadows basking in heavy August air, she bloomed under his attention. Courteous, gentle, and cautious were adjectives she would use to describe him that night and she picked up on his desire to go slow. By equal degrees, she could not decide whether to accept the pace or use persuasion to plot another course. In the end, she conceded the choice to him when he asked her to dance.

  


Their conversation ran smooth as the hours disappeared and they became the only two in the world. Calleigh allowed Horatio to lean close, fill both their wine glasses sparingly, and for fun, snatch pieces of her dinner; she laughed at his lattermost antics. She was pleased to note he relaxed into the atmosphere of candlelight, jazz, and the beach he loved. Then somehow, his craving of another glimpse of her body pressed against his surfaced in her mind. She almost started at the intensity which sprang from him.

When the beginning strains of _I've Got to See You Again_ beckoned, she plainly saw Horatio could avoid the temptation no longer. Brushing hair off her bare shoulder to smooth his fingers against silky skin, she followed his soft pull away from their table into a moonlit dance.

He led her in an easy waltz that, nevertheless, left her dizzy and gasping for breath. Hand on her lower back, the other playing with one of hers, he directed her movements. This dance was completely different from that night almost a week ago at the club. While that had been lust and seduction, this was sweet and romance. This one was Horatio's lead as opposed to the equal pull and follow of the other. She had to admit she enjoyed the traditional atmosphere this dance lent itself to.

She savored the moonlight highlighting individual strands of hair and features on Horatio's face. The darkness mysteriously boasted the color of his eyes and the turn of contentment in his smile. Night's mild breezes shifted candlelight and brought the fire to burn in the foreground. Secure in the strength of his arms, protected by the force of his spirit, Calleigh knew she had to answer his question. For the entire week, he had played it safe and stayed just on that side of propriety; it ate at her that she was not as open and trusting as he that day.

As lightly as possible, she stepped away from the dance. Noticing he did not immediately register rejection for that, confidence ran rivets in her veins. Now or never.

"Horatio? Let's go on that walk now."

  


Chapter 5: Moonlight Confessions

***** ***** *****  
© RK 23.May.2003


	5. Moonlight Confessions

Disclaimer: _CSI: Miami_ does not belong to me. The characters are full of inspiration, intelligence, and intrigue that I can't help but borrow them a short while. I heartily enjoy the show and its premise. The events of this story are mine, but the characters are definitely not.

Author's Note: For b8kworm, the H/C group. Eternal gratitude to Mr. Hathaway, who made me realize I had a talent I was wasting; my apologies for neglecting to put a note here on all the other stories. To Lauri, because you've made me more vocal about the smut I'm addicted to but can't write; this is as close as I get. Thanks, Marianne, for your enthusiasm and help for my *trudgings*, LoL!

Summary: She could see that control, which kept him just outside her personal space, giving her his permission to seduce to her heart's desire. Just before she did just that, she promised his heart a sincere conversation with hers.

Archives: My site. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh

Spoiler: None, sorry.

***** ***** ***** 

Title: Nights Under the Full Jazz Moon

Author: Laeta  
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

  


Chapter 5: Moonlight Confessions

With every step along the sand grained shore they took, the haze of civilization fell away and left Horatio and Calleigh to journey through the world as they wished. Stars shone unchallenged by the cloudless sky; the fading moon sheltered its share of lovers' secrets. Meanwhile, the din of artificial conversation bowed behind to the imposing crash of waves. The breeze echoed both the moon and the water and brought shivers to Calleigh's slight frame.

Having wandered far enough, they settled in each other's arms to watch the play of light upon moving water. Once again ensconced in the comfort of Horatio's body, he warmed her and waited patiently, content to share nature's beauty with the one in his arms.

Lulled into a light doze by the elements, wine, and Horatio's steady heartbeat, she wondered how life managed to maneuver them to this moment. A week ago she was remarking on how they would never cross the line away from professionalism whereas now, she learned how deeply entrenched Horatio was in her and the reverse for him. Everyday he had surprised her with something about himself or obscure ways to show he cared and loved her; there were bouquets of flowers dotting the surfaces of her home while at work, there were little trinkets scattered about her lab. Her favorite was a square, clear paperweight with a bullet embedded in it; she enjoyed Horatio's subtle methods of teasing her immensely.

And during the past week, since their jobs demanded most of their time, Horatio had made a point of seeing her at some point along the day - never allowing her to leave for the night without a quick chat in his office or coffee in her lab first thing in the day - insignificant things that strengthened their initial friendship. For her part, she alternated between melting bones and the edge of sexual need. She had to give him credit for cherishing the novelty of this stage in their relationship.

Now, she knew it was her turn to bring them to the next.

"You asked me a question that I never answered."

"I did, but, Calleigh, you shouldn't feel obligated. You're not one of my suspects who I'm demanding an answer from."

She also could not fault his courtesy, but damn him for it anyway. She did not hesitate to say so.

Heated the barb was not, so she relished the vibrations of his humor, loving the fact she could bring him little joys like it, adoring the wry chuckle that flowed so easy out of him in her presence.

He nuzzled her bare neck, serious again. "Then, why me, sweetheart?"

Now or never. "Because the object of the night was to find the perfect man and you're it for me. Because I wanted you. Because I fell in love with you. Take your pick, but -" She sighed, trailing off, unable to completely portray her feelings.

Horatio's tightened his arms around Calleigh and she felt a breath heave out of him, blowing her bound hair. His head shifted to hide his face in it.

So being, his voice was muffled when he finally replied. "Thank you for that, Calleigh. Thank you so much." Her heart soared. "And I think I need to offer you an explanation."

Playful with relief, she turned to face him, depriving him of his shelter. "Yeah. Why were you there at the club?"

His face twisted into a small, self-deprecating smile. "Apparently I spend too much time at work for the company of a certain blond, fiery spirited, wholly independent criminalist. Or at work where I could be near her lab. A friend, I suppose you could consider him that-" The teasing note was a welcome additional to his voice as the smile grew full. "-is the owner of the club. He said there was this beautiful blond lady with an amazing, sultry accent and a smile to die for frequenting his place about once a month. He demanded I come see if it was you, swearing it was, once he saw that picture I made of you."

"So, being the dedicated scientist you are, you came see for yourself."

"Absolutely. I also will admit she was perfection on wings, and could you believe of all the men there, she chose me."

"And here we are."

She settled more comfortably into his arms and whispered, "I'm glad you went."

"Me, too, sweetheart. Me, too."

A moment later, he twisted his body in a smooth movement and Calleigh found herself looking up into his eyes with the fire dancing enticingly and his face and body backlit by the starlit sky. Her head cradled tenderly, body protected by his from the cool of the night and cushioned in the soft sand, she gazed befuddled into the desire drenched eyes of the man she loved.

"Always the truth, right, Calleigh? Then here's one: I can't resist you."

Then his mouth closed the distance to hers and Calleigh gave up on thinking, trusting him to keep her safe.

  


Later, he drove her home after their tryst was interrupted by party revelers spilling out onto the beach for some water fun. They stole quietly away and Calleigh slipped off her low-heeled shoes. Voice teasing, Horatio caught her hand and tugged her to his side; she let the sound of his laughter wash over her and through her soul.

When they reached the pavement of the parking lot, Horatio swept her into his arms as she held onto to her shoes and him. He deposited her in the passenger seat of his car after Calleigh successfully distracted him from his goal of opening the door for her. She merely grinned at his half-hearted threat of retaliation; she was enjoying the disheveled look he sported too much to let such words disturb her pleasure.

The drive occurred under quiet reflection though Horatio did not relinquish his touch. He varied from merely holding her hand to fingertips absently grazing the skin of her arm to playing with wisps of her hair. Calleigh luxuriated that he was finally comfortable with touching her; she missed the simple act of being touched by love. And Horatio did not do anything halfway.

At the entrance of her home, she knew why he hesitated at her offer to enter. If he wanted slow, the temptation of going in, and eventually staying until morning, would be too strong. Though she understood, she had to make that point to him; she respected his wishes and intuition told her that, in the long run, the waiting would head off into a very interesting night. She looked forward to that.

So with a sentence, she managed to convey everything: "Horatio, I really love that picture, too." Then she let the door shut him off from her, but not before she caught the three-dimensional thinking she was so fond of turn the gears in his mind.

Yes, she mused. She was in for a very interesting time whenever the night arrived for them to move the relationship further. In the meantime, she had their next date to tempt an alteration to his plans.

  


FIN

***** ***** *****  
© RK 23.May.2003


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